


Impressive, Truly

by DearHeartx



Series: Fictober 2018 [21]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Hushed Whispers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-23 21:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearHeartx/pseuds/DearHeartx
Summary: The war meeting before In Hushed Whispers
Relationships: Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Series: Fictober 2018 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802731





	Impressive, Truly

Rym smoothed out her tunic, the rough fabric catching on her callouses from over use of her staff these last few weeks. She sucked the sting out of her thumb and frowned at her reflection in the dingy mirror. Why she bothered trying to look presentable at the War Councils, she’d never know. He'd seen her at her worst—weak, smeared with blood and ichor, short tempered from getting bested by a Templar. No matter how prim and proper she presented herself now, there'd be no erasing his memory of picking a glob of Ash Wraith from her hair hours after the fight had ended. Or her shrill cries as he called upon the Fade to knit her pelvic bone back together after she'd been taken unawares by the Avvar prince’s hammer. Or the time her delicate sensitivity kept them camped for an extra two days because she couldn't handle the Spindleweed in their stew. Or the time—well, the point is he'd made up his mind about her. Solas would never see her as anything other than a weak body attached to this wholly powerful Mark. She glared at herself as she pinched color into her cheeks and bolted for the Chantry before she could change clothes for the third time.

Angry voices floated out the open Chantry door and got lost as the wind drove them into the snow. Already angry and she wasn't even there yet. That was promising. By the time she reached the door, she could make out the argument.

“…give up this nonsense and go get the Templars!” Cullen was speaking slowly, but the underlying growl betrayed his attitude.

“You weren't there, Commander.”

Rym’s stomach fluttered and she fought to keep her face neutral as she entered the War Room and listened to Solas’ steady, dulcet tones.

“These mages cannot be left at the mercy of Gereon Alexius. If not for their own well-being, then to at least deprive Tevinter of a Circle trained army.”

She studied him carefully, surprised at the implied praise of Circle education; then she saw the slight tremor of his upper lip, his hands clenched painfully around his staff. Rym smiled, she couldn't help it. Solas had proven himself strong and brilliant before, but in one simple sentence he showed a cleverness that left Cullen red faced and huffing.

“I suppose you are right.” Cullen’s features hardened as he stared at the map laid out between them. “Do you have any suggestions, then?”

Josephine who had been scratching wildly at her clipboard throughout cleared her throat softly. “Alexius did ask for the Herald by name.”

“That doesn't scream ‘Hey, look, I'm a trap,’ to anyone else?” Iron Bull scratched at his broken horn and gave Rym a sympathetic smile.

She grinned back trying to put everyone at ease. “How nice of him! I haven't been invited to a good trap in ages!” Iron Bull And Varric laughed openly, but it was the subtle tug at Solas’ mouth that had her blushing.

“Yes, well, unfortunately the invitation didn't carry a plus-one and Redcliffe is one of the most defensible fortresses in all of Ferelden.” He looked at his feet and thumbed at the hilt of his sword. “If you go in there, you will die.”

Her stomach clenched, but Cullen wasn't done talking.

“And we will lose the only means we have of closing the rifts. I won't allow it.”

Rym’s faint blush darkened as a quiet rage bubbled up from her chest, digesting what the Commander had said. Varric hoisted himself from his stool and silently stood by her side. The few seconds of silence dragged between them, tension made obvious by Cullen scratching at the back of his neck and still gazing at his feet.

“It's good to know what I mean to you all.” Her voice cracked and she cursed her weakness again.

She felt Varric lean into her shoulder slightly, but it was Cullen who spoke. “I apologize, Herald. That was crass.” He smiled briefly at her and the room seemed to relax a margin. “But you're too important to risk.”

Leliana butted in, reigniting the argument. “But if we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep.”

“Using the Inquisition’s forces to enter the castle, whether we're successful or not, could very well provoke a war with Ferelden. Our hands our tied.” Josephine dotted her papers with enough force to rip the vellum.

Cassandra threw up her hands. “But the magister—”

“Has outplayed us, Seeker.”

Rym looked to her companions for help. Varric still offered his silent support, Bull leaned against the far wall watching intently, but not speaking, and Solas had distanced himself from the argument, standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest, staff now cast aside. She sighed and rested her hands on the table, head hung between her arms. “It's not over yet. I won't let it be over.” Weak though she may be, no one could say she wasn't stubborn. “What about the Arl?”

Cullen rubbed at his temples and shook his head. “He's made his way to Denerim, likely to seek help from his nephew, the King. I don't think he'd appreciate us laying siege to his castle in his absence.”

“What if we didn't have to lay siege?” Ryms usual lilt had her own growl and Cullen looked up in surprise.

“Of course!”

Everyone turned to stare at Leliana who had leaped from the corner, her palm to her forehead. “There's a secret passage into the castle…”

Leliana had nearly finished explaining how her adventures with the Hero of Ferelden had lead to her knowledge of the passage when the wooden door burst open with a startling thunk. Standing in the doorway was the tall, dusky mage from Redcliffe twiddling the corner of his mustache, a pleased smirk wiggling the hairs between his fingers. Behind him stood one of Cullen’s pages, frazzled, he tried to tug the mage back through the open door.

“I'm so sorry, Ser. He wouldn't stop, I couldn't—”

The mage brushed off the page’s feeble attempt at restraint and proceeded to dust off and flatten the portion of robe the boy had wrinkled. “As I told the lad, no matter your plan, you'll never get past Alexius’ magic without my help. If you're going after him, I'm coming along.”

Dorian seemed to notice Cullen’s reluctance and the page shying away from the Commander. He stepped toward Cullen, sweeping his robes around him so he could bow. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. Don't be too hard on the poor boy, he did try so very much to keep me out. I'm just a very hard man to say no to.” He winked at Cullen then tossed a smile to Rym.

She couldn't help but giggle at Cullen’s gaping maw. She only stopped when a gentle throat clearing reminded her that Solas was at her elbow.

“Quite right,” Dorian pointed at Solas,”No time to enjoy the view. Too much work to be done saving the world.”


End file.
